We step outside, and Buddy lifts his head, nostrils flaring as he catches all the smells around him—the roses from next door, the damp lawn left by last night’s shower, and the fresh path of a squirrel close by.
🏰Strolling alongside his daughter, who was playing with a doll, they chatted about what lay ahead—the novel, the peer support circle, tying the knot, and starting their own family. Clara’s chest swelled, brimming with affection and optimism. She understood that no matter what
🐨: please read some comments
🐰: “miss you” *reads*
🐰: “miss you my husband” *reads more*
🐨: “miss you my husband” *repeats*
🐹: “miss you my husband” *repeats*
🐥: “miss you my husband” *repeats*
🐨: miss you my wife!
🐰: oh!